


The Blessing She Forgot She Wanted

by GaeilgeRua



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Adult Hermione, Alternate Universe, Humor, Multi, Not Epilogue Compliant, One Shot, Post-Hogwarts, Romance, smut with substance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-21
Updated: 2015-02-21
Packaged: 2018-03-14 10:39:44
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,798
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3407573
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GaeilgeRua/pseuds/GaeilgeRua
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Her quick and vast intellect was her source of unending pride, so the ONE TIME she forgot something; it ended up being a life changing event.</p>
            </blockquote>





	The Blessing She Forgot She Wanted

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: If only I owned the characters of the HP world, but alas, I do not. Although I had a lot of fun playing with Fabian and Gideon in JK’s sandbox!
> 
> Written for the Samhain Smut Fest on LJ, prompt #T9: Samhain Eve. Finding one’s love; an ancient spell to bring forth one’s true match. I did my best to incorporate different sights and smells that are associated with Samhain that I found on multiple websites and I hope I did justice to the wonderful prompt.
> 
> A huge thanks goes to all who helped me…Meiri, wiccawitch, bunnyhops, and jamies_lady. If there are any mistakes after they have gone through this, then the mistakes are my own.
> 
> There is another author’s note at the end. Thank you for reading and I hope you enjoy!

Hermione stared at the book lying open before her. The requirements needed were quite easy for a smart witch such as herself. 

“The witch in question, performing the spell exactly one month prior to Samhain, must not only be a strong witch magically, but she must be a witch in the purest form,” she muttered as she copied down the information for when she returned to her own home. There was only tonight or tomorrow night left before she would have to wait another year to perform the spell, and she had no desire to perform the True Match spell in front of others, Merlin forbid something were to go wrong.

The brunette witch sighed, beginning to read through stories of other witches and wizards who had performed the spell located in _Enchanting Encounters_ by Fifi LaFolle. She hated the looks that others gave her when they saw her dining alone at the Leaky Cauldron or attending galas and parties by herself. Just because she enjoyed her own company did not mean she needed a man in her life.

She had honestly been content with her life the way it was going, until recently, at least. Over the past six months or so, she’d begun to feel like something was missing. But it wasn’t until she was on holiday in Istanbul, while relaxing in a Turkish bath, that she finally figured it out: what was lacking was someone with whom to share her experiences.

“I still can’t believe that after all these years as an independent witch, I now feel like I need to rely on a wizard,” she groused to the parchment before her, before turning back to the yellowed and dusty pages of _Olde and Forgotten Bewitchments and Charms_ and glaring at the book as if it was the cause of all her problems. “And ‘purest form’? Honestly, could you be any more vague?”

“Just because you are in a relationship with another person, or in some cases persons, does not mean that you need to give up on being self-reliant.”

Hermione gasped and nearly fell out of her chair before realising that the parchment was one from her own supplies and not charmed to speak. She slammed the book closed, on her poor innocent thumb no less, before whirling in her chair, expecting to find the small study inside the Malfoy library to be as empty as it had been when Narcissa had shown her the room. She wasn’t expecting to see Draco Malfoy standing behind her, even though he was the one who suggested she use his family’s library for her research.

“Also, ‘purest form’ means virgin, not pure-blood, if you’re wondering.” He sat down next to her, pulling the ancient tome closer to him before flipping through the pages. “Now, back to your foolish idea, thinking you’ll become utterly dependent on someone with whom you’re in a relationship. Take a look at my relationship with Daphne and Padma. I saw Daphne coming from a kilometre away, we always had something between us, even if it did take me escorting Pansy to the Yule Ball in 4th year to realise it. But Padma? She was a pleasant surprise. Daph and I complemented each other because of our similar histories, but my little Lotus Blossom showed up at just the right moment to help ground both of us. In the beginning, we did depend on each other, but now? That dependency is no longer there. We each know the other two are there if we ever need them.” He paused, the thumb of his right hand brushed over the dragon currently sleeping on his left forearm.

There were few people who understood the wizard sitting next to her well enough to know that if one looked hard enough they could find the white lotus blossoms and green laurel leaves magically inked into the dragon’s scales that covered the long faded Dark Mark—a gift from his aunt and her master in his youth. There was even one red lotus blossom hidden amongst the silvery-blue scales of the tattooed Swedish Short-Snout. ‘They’re the loves of my life,’ he always responded when someone new found and questioned him about the unique additions, ‘and we will always be there to protect each other.’

“I’ve never told anyone this, not even Daph or Padma, but I might not have survived much longer if Padma hadn’t come along when she did. The demons of my conscience and the war were hounding me, and I was losing my resolve. My bond with Daphne was strong, but not strong enough—Padma changed everything. She represents everything that the Hindus believe regarding the white lotus blossom. Padma is wise beyond her years and her selflessness is like no other, but I sometimes think she may have been a red lotus blossom in a past life, because her love and compassion for her friends and family, especially me and Daph, is unlike any I’ve ever seen.” The pages he had been flipping stopped eerily close to where she had been reading just moments before. “But I’m getting off topic and I apologise. Mia, you dealt with Blaise for over a year. Merlin, you still put up with him, hell, we both do, and if you can put up with him and me, you can put up with anyone. Kudos, by the way, for turning him celibate for a year.”

“It would’ve been nice, if it had lasted,” Hermione mused, shaking her head as she thought about Blaise’s more recent escapades. He had a point though… “You have a point, but—“

“No buts about it, whoever the Fates have chosen for you will be there to complement you, not overshadow you. The same can be said for you to your true match. You will not overshadow them either.” He slid the worn tome back to Hermione. “Now, learn this spell, perform it tonight once you’re home, or even tomorrow night, and in a month’s time your true match will be revealed.”

Hermione chuckled at the wizard sitting next to her. “You always know what to say to put everything into perspective.”

He stood up, leaning over to kiss to top of her head. As he pulled back, a full-blown smirk graced his aristocratic features and he spread his arms wide. “Of course I do, love. I’m Draco Malfoy.”

~**~~**~~**~

In the bowels of the Ministry of Magic, on the ninth and lowest level, a wizard tumbled through a tattered black curtain that was hung from an ancient archway made of crumbling stone. The wizard landed face first onto the cold, hard stone floor of the sunken pit.

Moments later, a second wizard lurched through the same stone archway, tripping over the prone man on the floor. He made it one more step before he too landed on the floor, his back colliding with the hard ground. The second wizard made no sound as he landed, eyes gazing sightlessly above him.

The air in the room crackled as though it were electrified by the arrivals of the two newcomers and it was eagerly anticipating more. When it became clear, after a few long minutes that these two wizards would be the only ones, the excitement wore off and the air returned to its normal still and cold state. The barest hint of whispering voices emerged from the archway as the curtain fluttered in the non-existent wind.

~**~~**~~**~

Kingsley was preparing to leave for Arthur and Molly’s home for their annual party when his wand vibrated. He pulled his wand from his arm sheath, the tip flashing.

“What is it?”

“I don’t know. Just a moment, love,” the Minister replied, watching as the tip continued to flash—dot dot dot dash. Dot. Dot dot. Dot dash dot dot. “I can’t believe it. Young Draco was right.”

“About what, dear?”

Kingsley looked up at his wife and smiled. Marlene Shacklebolt née McKinnon was just as beautiful today as the day they married almost thirty years ago.

He could still remember vividly the night he'd heard her whole family had been slaughtered—the guilt and shock he'd felt. Marlene's mission that night had been two-fold: Hide the Longbottoms, including little Neville, and then secrete her own family to a safe house. She wasn't supposed to go alone, he was supposed to have been with her, but there had been skirmishes near a few major Muggle cities, and he'd been transferred to help the Order with those. That night she'd only had Frank, Alice, and Augusta's help long enough to get their family tucked away before going to her parents' home alone. By the time she'd arrived to gather her family, so they could to Portkey to a safe house, Travers had shown up leading a band of Death Eaters. In the chaos of that night, the Order had been unable to come to her aid, and it wasn't until two days later that Marlene appeared at Order headquarters, battered and beaten, but successful in the first half of her mission from the night before. The Longbottom family was safe.

Marlene had explained how she transfigured her little sister’s fallen Crup to look like her and Portkeyed to the safe house. She had spent the next day and a half trying to figure out where everything went wrong, never once realising that Peter Pettigrew had been in the room when she discussed her family’s escape plan with Dumbledore. On her second day in the safe house, Death Eaters had broken through the wards and blown it apart. Marlene barely escaped with her life.

The day that the Order heard that Alice and Frank had been kidnapped and tortured nearly destroyed Marlene. All of their hard work in protecting both potential prophecy boys was shattered in a matter of weeks--first, with the deaths of the Potters, and then the attack on the Longbottoms. Kingsley knew that Marlene blamed herself and he refused to add his wife to the growing list of casualties suffered by the Order, so he stood by her every step of the way. However, it wasn’t until the doctor informed them of their upcoming parenthood, a few days before Christmas 1981, that she was able to leave the woes of the war behind and become her bright, cheerful self again.

A hand touched his arm. “Kings, what’s going on?”

Shaking the cobwebs from his head, the head of Britain's magical community grasped his wife’s hand. “I apologise, I was lost in my thoughts. To answer your original question, Draco came to me about three weeks ago, telling me that there was a possibility that someone would be coming through the Veil tonight.”

Marlene’s blue eyes portrayed her confusion. “Who? And why?”

“Who, I do not know exactly. Why? Well, a friend of Draco’s performed the True Match spell and he seemed to think that it was a possibility that her match may be coming through the Veil. It looks like the young man was correct.” Kingsley leaned forward and kissed his wife’s cheek. “I must go to the Ministry and meet with them before they find their way out. I will be at Arthur and Molly’s as soon as I’m able to finish the paperwork involved.”

Marlene turned her head and captured her husband’s lips. “Please be careful, you don’t know who you’ll find,” she whispered after releasing his lips. Her hand slipped from his as she quickly made her way to their living room to gather their children.

Kingsley took a deep breath and made his way to the Ministry of Magic and its ninth level.

~**~~**~~**~

Hermione finally stepped inside the Weasley home after spending the past hour making her way through the crowd gathered outside around bonfires. She smiled as she took in her surroundings. The Burrow was filled to the brim.

Every year the number of people attending the Weasley annual Samhain party increased, and this year was no exception. Both the front and back doors of the home had been spelled to stay open to allow revellers to come and go as they please.

A small orange blur shot from the kitchen and through the living room on its way out the front door. It was quickly followed by a large orange blur and two smaller black blurs.

“It looks like Crookshanks is enjoying his Samhain gift,” a voice noted to her right.

Hermione turned and smiled at the Weasley matriarch, laughing, “Haha, yes, Crooks is enjoying the catnip laced Jack-O-Lantern toy you charmed for him very much. It also looks like Ginny’s kittens enjoy chasing Crooks.”

“It is the little things we can do for our familiars that make them happy.”

Hermione nodded in agreement before hearing a ruckus at the front door.

“Oi!” George shouted, blocking whomever he was speaking with from entering the home with his stocky frame. “What are you lot doing here? You’re not family.”

“We were invited by your own mother,” a familiar voice drawled. Draco raised an eyebrow at the older wizard standing before him.

“You knew we were coming, George, we talked about it last week when I came into your shop,” Padma added, looking at her friend in surprise.

Daphne stayed silent, narrowing her ash blonde eyebrows at the wizard blocking their entrance.

“George!” Molly exclaimed.

Ginny came up behind her brother and grabbed on to his remaining ear, pulling him back to allow the trio to enter, causing George to yelp. “What in Merlin’s name has gotten in to you tonight? You know Daphne, Draco, and Padma are like family now, just like Hermione, Luna, and Neville are. We had this discussion a couple years ago, when Ron was still in his prat stage. Just because they’re not blood related doesn’t mean that the three of them are not family.”

Ginny finally released her brother’s ear; he frowned at his sister as he rubbed the bruised appendage.

“My dears, please ignore my son, he seems to forget that Draco is related to us on his mum’s side of the family.” Molly smiled as the trio stepped into the bustling home, Daphne still looking sceptically at George.

“I’m just taking the mickey out of you, Draco. You know you’re always welcome here.” George clapped Draco on the back, holding on for a moment too long for Hermione’s liking. Her eyes narrowed at the redhead as he stepped back, a too-cheery grin on his face.

The blond eyed him and opened his mouth to say something, but before he could, he was quickly covered in a multitude of tiny Pigmy Puffs, in all shades of pink and purple.

Daphne and Padma stared at their husband in horror, before falling into fits of giggles. He had never been so colourful before. Draco glared at everyone around him before settling his dark gaze on the other man in the room.

Ginny’s eyebrows rose before she bit her finger trying to stop herself from laughing. Then Draco sneezed, and Ginny lost her uphill battle, dissolving into giggles of her own.

Hermione rolled her eyes at George’s antics and pulled out her wand, sending a stinging hex straight at his arse.

George jumped in the air, clutching his stinging backside. “Ow, Hermione, what the hell was that for?”

“For being an arse,” she replied. As George opened his mouth to refute her claim, she raised an eyebrow and her wand at him. Wisely, George snapped his mouth shut. “That’s what I thought. Now, remove whatever it was you put on Draco’s back to attract the Pigmy Puffs.”

Stepping forward, George pulled a dark disk from Draco’s shoulder. “It’s a new invention. The Pigmy Puff Homing Beacon, obviously it’s supposed to be keyed to only one Puff, but I altered this one.” He grinned shamelessly. “It worked like a charm.”

“Great, I’m glad it worked,” Draco growled. “Now, get rid of these little furballs!” His glare darkened on George. “And you better run before they’re gone, because I despise being used as a plaything by anyone,” he paused and smirked at his wives, before giving George an even darker look, “aside from Daphne and Padma, of course.”

The witches in question returned his smirk.

George’s eyes widened at the black look he was receiving from the normally easy-going wizard. He tapped the disk and instantly the Pigmy Puffs jumped from Draco. They landed on the floor, and then scurried from the Burrow, the redhead quickly following them out the door.

As George disappeared through the door, his voice floated back through the opening, “You could use some more colour in your life, mate!”

Draco sneezed again before yelling, “Dammit, Weasley! Your arse is mine!” As he too vanished out the front door.

“Kinky!” George’s laughter blended with Draco’s groan of frustration.

“I swear that boy doesn’t know when to stop.” Molly sighed. “Shall we head to the kitchen, ladies, for a nice cuppa while the boys wear themselves out?”

“That sounds wonderful, Mrs Weasley,” Daphne agreed. “Thank you.”

Molly patted her hand as she led the way into the kitchen. “Call me Molly, dear. You too, Padma.”

Both young women started to protest, but Ginny shook her head, whispering, “Go on then, she’s serious.”

Hermione took a deep breath as she entered the kitchen, smelling for the first time the tell-tale rich, spicy scent of mulled wine. Personally, she wasn’t a fan of the autumnal drink, not being a fan of star anise herself, but she loved the other scents, the spicy cinnamon, the dark, rich cloves, and the subtle hint of nutmeg. They reminded her of holidays spent at her grandparents’ homes from when she was a child.

Molly’s voice brought her back to the present. “Hermione dear, what would you like to drink?”

“Do you really have to ask that, mum? She’ll have her,” Ginny smirked and stuck her nose in the air, assuming a look of superiority, “masala chai.”

Hermione laughed. “I can’t help it if I fell in love with masala chai when I lived in India for two years. It really is a truly wonderful drink, and normally I would have a cup, but I think for tonight I’m going to finally try the cider sangria I brought.”

“Oh, Hermione is right, masala chai is heavenly,” agreed Padma.

Hermione turned to look at her friend. “Would you like a cup? Molly always has the ingredients on hand for me. I’d be happy to make some for you.”

“Oh no, don’t worry about it, Hermione,” Padma said, smiling. “I’m quite happy with the mulled wine tonight.”

“If you’re su—“

Hermione’s response was cut off by the sound of porcelain clattering to the floor, and tea sloshing onto the wooden floor. Molly gasped loudly.

Ginny looked at her mother. “Mum, what’s wrong?”

Molly could only shake her head back and forth, hands covering her mouth, as she stared at the door.

The four young women turned to the open back door where two unknown figures had appeared.

Ginny stared wide-eyed at the two men who had to be related to one of her parents. The red hair was a dead giveaway. “Mum, who are they?”

Daphne and Hermione quickly grabbed on to Molly’s elbows as she took a wobbly step forward. The two witches led the Weasley matriarch to her seat at the table.

The young wizards at the door took a step toward Molly.

A sob tore from Molly’s throat. “No! You’re dead.”

Identical grief-stricken looks fell over the wizards’ faces. They looked at each other, before turning back to Molly surprised.

Hermione nearly moaned as the wizard on the left finally broke the silence, his voice seductively caressing her senses. “No, Moley-Oley, we’re not dead.”

“Not anymore at least,” the second wizard added, his own voice sliding over Hermione’s skin like the softest satin.

Hermione whimpered.

Molly dissolved into hysterics.

~**~~**~~**~

Through the din of the revellers, Arthur heard Molly exclaim, “No! You’re dead.” 

“Excuse me,” he said interrupting his conversation with Andromeda, before quickly turning and making his way into the Burrow. 

“Dad, what’s going on? I heard mum yell.”

His eldest son’s voice stopped him. “I don’t know, Bill, but follow me.”

Both wizards quickly made their way into the house, wands drawn. The Weasley patriarch lowered his wand as he took in the scene before him.

Molly was sitting in a chair at the kitchen table with her head buried against their daughter's stomach, sobbing. As Ginny was holding on to her mum she was staring at the back door in confusion. Arthur noticed that Hermione was also staring at the door, but she seemed to be transfixed by what she was seeing. The other two young women, Daphne and Padma, were looking back and forth between his wife and the door.

Arthur turned his attention to the door, raising his wand at the sight before him. He was so furious that the blood pumping through the vein in his neck was visible. Who would play such a cruel joke on his wife? "What is this? Who do you think you are coming in here looking like my wife's long dead brothers?"

Bill snarled, baring his teeth at the men who bore an uncanny resemblance to his uncles, who he last saw just days before Antonin Dolohov and four other Death Eaters killed them. The part-lycanthrope remembered well the emotions he felt as he came upon a dying Dolohov, the skin of his torso in bloodied ribbons. He felt no compunction as he sent a second slicing hex in the vile Death Eater’s direction before returning to the fray of battle. It was after the fighting was over that Bill found out that Filius Flitwick had been the one to send the first slicing hex, taking down the evil wizard. Bill’s snarl morphed into a wicked, wolfish smirk.

Both wizards stared in shock at the eldest Weasley son.

“Artie, Little Will, we’re not imposters,” the wizard closest to him implored. He held his hands out toward Arthur, hope flickering in his eyes.

The nicknames stopped Arthur and Bill in their tracks. No one but family knew of Molly’s brothers’ nickname for Arthur.

“Fabian? Gideon? What? How is this possible?” Arthur reached blindly for a chair at the table, slumping heavily against the worn wood.

Ginny gasped, recognition dawning bright in her eyes. The youngest Weasley may have never met her mother's younger brothers since her mum was still pregnant with Fred and George when both her uncles had been killed in the first war. They were only twenty-six. It was their deaths, at the hands of those five Death Eaters, that caused Molly to go into labour early, delivering her twins on April Fool’s Day in 1978.

Bill couldn’t believe it. He was only seven when his uncles were killed and yet here they were standing before him in the flesh. Memories of happier times with a rapidly expanding family flooded him. Laughing, Bill rushed forward and engulfed his uncles in a hug. Both wizards tactfully did not mention the glimmer of wetness in the eyes of their nephew. “Ha! Merlin it’s so good to see you again! What brought you back?”

Gideon spoke as Bill released them from his fierce hold. “We’re not really sure actually. We were spit out from the Veil and after your Minister of Magic calmly gave us a brief update of what’s gone on, he took us to Diagon Alley and told us to ‘follow your hearts’.”

“I’m pretty sure that sneaky Ravenclaw knew exactly what was going on,” Fabian added.

“Oh, Kings knew exactly what was going on.” Gideon rolled his eyes at his brother. “Anyway, once Kings left, we took a few moments to centre ourselves after our very interesting journey and quickly realised that the pull we had been feeling since he woke us was leading us here.”

“Oh, my boys,” Molly gushed, finally realising that they really were standing before her. “You’ve come home to me.”

A new voice joined in from the doorway leading to the living room. “Actually, Mrs Weasley, they are not here because of you.”

Heads spun toward the source of the new voice. Draco Malfoy. “What do you mean, Draco? They’re my brothers. Of course they’re here because of me.”

The young blond wizard shook his head. “It isn’t your magic that is calling them. It’s Hermione’s.”

All eyes turned to the young witch who hadn’t spoken since before Fabian and Gideon appeared.

“Hermione?” Molly questioned. “What did you do?”

She was brought back to reality at Molly’s question. “What do you mean, what have I done? I didn’t _do_ anything, I don’t think.”

“You did, actually. You cast the True Match spell a month ago,” Draco supplied.

Gasps echoed around the cosy kitchen.

“I what?!” Draco watched as her faced screwed up and he could almost see the rolodex of memories spinning through her brain. “But I don’t remember performing the spell.”

Ginny stared at her friend. "Um, Hermione, how exactly do you forget you've undertaken such a complex and magically taxing ritual?"

"Oh Merlin, I don't know how I completely forgot that I even cast that spell," she answered, biting her lip. “But then again, it was a month ago, and I’ve been so busy at work this past month.” She gave Ginny a pointed look, “And then there is someone’s wedding that I’m the maid of honour for in two weeks time. With all that I guess it is possible. I mean, I’ve also barely slept, but I mean, I have slept since then—”

“Hermione,” Draco interrupted, “you’re rambling.”

“Oh.” She blushed. “Sorry.”

Ginny stepped over to where Hermione was standing. “Why did you feel the need to cast the True Match spell?”

The brunette witch blushed and scratched behind her ear. “Well, uh, heh, when I was in Istanbul six months ago, I realised that I have no one with whom I can share my experiences.” Ginny opened her mouth to disagree. “Before you say that I’ve got you, your family, and my friends, I know I do, but it’s not the same.”

Gideon spoke up, his voice still softly caressing Hermione’s senses, but she did her best to not let it distract her this time. “You don’t have someone that when something good or bad happens you have to tell them right away. Telling your friends can wait, am I correct?”

She nodded. “Yes, exactly. And Draco reminded me that just because I’m with someone does not mean that I have to give up who I am.”

“No, of course not,” Fabian agreed.

Bill looked pensive for a moment before he spoke. “How do we know that you’re both Hermione’s match? Is it possible that it is just one of you?”

Daphne looked up at the oldest Weasley son. “Why would the other brother be here if only one was her true match?”

“You have a good po-“

Another new voice joined the discussion.

“They are both Hermione’s matches,” Kingsley confirmed as he entered the rapidly filling kitchen. “I’ve just come from the Ministry after filling out the parchment work for their arrival and just before I left, I received notification from the Department of Mysteries that both Fabian and Gideon Prewett are Hermione Granger’s true matches.”

Hermione turned to the Minister. “Why would the Department of Mysteries know that information?”

Before Kingsley could remind her that the Department of Mysteries knows everything, Molly spoke up. “Most witches are not capable of performing such a spell. The power it takes can sometimes kill the caster.” A hand crept its way up to Molly’s hip as she looked at Hermione. “You didn’t perform the spell by yourself, did you?”

Hermione blushed a deeper shade of red.

“Hermione Jean! How-“

“Hold on, Mrs Weasley,” Draco interrupted, “Hermione may have been in her home by herself, but I was keeping an eye on her with a spell. After all, she got the idea and the spell from me.”

Hermione groaned, her cheeks flushing a deeper shade of red. “Dammit, Draco! How could you?”

“Hermione, don’t give me that look. The spell I cast was only to tell me of your health in regards to the True Match spell. I didn’t even cast the spell until you were leaving the Manor that last day.”

Hermione crossed her arms, glaring at her friend. “That doesn’t make it any better.”

“Oh shush, Hermione, I’m just glad that someone has been keeping an eye out for you.” Molly smiled at Draco.

“I’ve known Hermione for over fourteen years, and while we may not have been friends for the first seven,” nearly everyone in the room chuckled in agreement, “I’ve come to know how she can be sometimes.”

Hermione huffed, crossing her arms. She glanced at Fabian and Gideon and blushed at the matching amused grins they sported. “I’m not _that_ bad.”

Padma giggled. “Do you not remember going back after the war, redoing our last year of school? You were nearly as bad as Anthony, Terry, and I combined,” she grinned, “but not quite.”

Molly patted Hermione’s hand. “You do tend to put your whole heart into your work, my dear.”

“You’re not forgetful, but rather dedicated to your work. And that is why I told Kingsley to keep an eye out for anyone coming through the Veil tonight.” A proud smile spread across Draco’s features as he delivered this news. He missed the narrowing of Hermione’s eyes. “I knew you were powerful enough to bring someone back from the dead, but I also knew that with your best friends’ wedding coming up that there was a possibility that you would forget that you cast the spell.”

The brunette witch stepped toward Draco. “You did what?”

Draco’s eyes widened in horror, realising his error that no matter how much he was trying to keep an eye on his friend she didn’t like people going behind her back, and the young wizard quickly stepped backwards as the upset witch advanced. “I-I was trying to help.”

She grabbed the front of his robes, pulling Draco behind her as she made her way from the room, nearly running over Kingsley in the process.

“And that would be my cue to find my wife and children,” Kingsley muttered, glad that Hermione’s wrath was directed at the young Malfoy heir and not at him.

“They’re out front, Minister,” Bill informed him.

“You might want to go around the outside of the house though,” Ginny suggested, pointing toward the back door.

Daphne looked at the youngest Weasley. “Draco will be okay, won’t he?”

Before she could reply, Fabian and Gideon ceased their muted conversation and Gideon followed after Draco and Hermione.

~**~~**~~**~

The door to Ginny’s first floor bedroom flew open, banging against the wall. Draco stumbled into the room as Hermione rounded on him, her back to the still open door.

“Draco Perseus Malfoy, I cannot believe you would invade my privacy like that!” Her hands curled into fists, firmly planted on her hips.

He was just thankful that she hadn’t reached for her wand. Yet. “Hermione, I’m so—“

“First, you were keeping tabs on me when I performed the spell last month, and then you go and tell Kingsley that my match just _might_ be coming through the Veil? I can’t believe you’d betray my trust like that!”

“But Hermione, I didn’t tell Kingsley who it was that cast the True Match spell, just that someone I knew did and that her match might come through the Veil on Samhain.” He glanced behind her, a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “If he knew it was you, then he figured it out on his own.”

Before Hermione could open her mouth to speak, arms slid around her waist, pulling her against a hard, warm body. Her squeak caused Draco to smirk. Lips brushed against her ear, as Gideon whispered, “Love, he meant well. You’re safe, we’re here, and that’s all that matters.”

She melted into the wizard behind her when his delicious lips pressed against the flushed skin of her neck.

Draco’s smirk deepened as he realised his luck. For now. Winking at the brunette witch, Draco stepped around the couple, not missing when Gideon pulled her closer to him to distract her from halting Draco’s departure. The blond wizard knew he would have to thank the man later. Hermione’s moan reached his ears as he crossed the threshold. _Much later_ , he realised.

He hadn’t even made it a couple steps down the stairs before Fabian was blocking his way. His eyebrow was raised in question.

Draco’s eyebrow rose in response. “First floor, door on the right.”

Fabian nodded in reply, allowing the younger wizard to pass, missing the re-emergence of his smirk.

Draco entered the kitchen to find that Kingsley was the only other person absent from the room.

Three different questions were directed at him all at the same time. “Well, where is she?” “Is Hermione okay?” “Are you okay?”

Draco addressed his wives first. “Yes, I’m fine.” He turned to Molly. “She’s calmed down now thanks to her beaus.” Lastly, he turned to Ginny and smirked. “They’re in your room.”

Ginny rolled her eyes. “Tell me you’re joking.”

Draco’s eyes glinted. “Nope. Hermione dragged me to your room and I left them there.”

“Oh Merlin,” Ginny muttered, before darting up the stairs. She returned a few moments later, a confused look upon her face. “They’re gone.”

~**~~**~~**~

As Hermione landed in the quiet of her living room, she was thankful for the wizards standing on either side of her. After nearly seven years—since the end of the war, actually—she had forgotten what effects Side-Along Apparition with two other people could have on her. Without the adrenaline of wartime attacks fuelling her, driving her to push her discomfort aside, her vision swam before her eyes.

“Are you okay?” The wizard on her right brushed her hair back from her face.

She started to nod, but her vision blackened again. Her fingers tightened against their arms. “I will be in a moment,” she murmured, taking a breath. “I, uh, I haven’t done that in years, not since the war. Side-Along with two other people I mean.”

Both wizards stiffened at her sides. The wizard on her left found his voice first. “What? Why would you do that? You could seriously hurt yourself.”

She blushed and opened her eyes, now that the black spots and flashes had stopped. “It wasn’t on purpose. I’d forgotten how sometimes it bothers me, especially when I'm not giving my full attention to Apparating. I wasn’t thinking and I just went with what I was feeling, which was to be alone with you both as quickly as possible. Other than my equilibrium going haywire for a moment, I’m fine. What about you two? Are you okay? I didn’t splinch you, did I?”

They both chuckled.

“No, I’m fine, little one. All in one piece. What about you, Gids?”

“As grand as a Galleon, Old Bean.”

As Hermione joined in their laughter, she took a few moments to really look at the two wizards. They both towered over her 5’5” frame and could rest their chins on the top of her head without stretching. The wizard on her right, Fabian if she remembered correctly, had a scar running down the side of his face, cutting off the outer edge of his left eyebrow. While Gideon, who would be on her left if Fabian was on her right, didn’t have any visible scars that she could see at the moment.

She quickly saw the similarities between the twins standing with her and the twins she’d known since she was eleven. As she thought of Fred, her laughter tapered off.

Fabian quickly caught on to her mood change. “What is it, little one?”

“You both remind me so much of the twins, Fred and George, which is a good thing because no matter how much they drove me nuts in school, they were still good men.”

“Were?” Gideon looked shocked. “What do you mean they were?”

“Fred was killed in the second war at the Battle of Hogwarts, and while George is alive, he really hasn’t been the same since. But he does have the joke shop that they opened together years ago, and he’s certainly causing all kinds of terror for Headmistress McGonagall and the teachers at Hogwarts with that.” Hermione smiled softly. “And just recently, he and his wife, Angelina, welcomed their first child, little Freddie.”

“We had no idea,” Fabian muttered.

“There is no way that you could have known,” Hermione reasoned, looking into each man's eyes in turn.

Remembering her earlier comment, and wanting to distract her from the sadness he could see creeping in, Fabian smirked, saying, “You said something about wanting to be alone with us as quickly as possible. You’ve got us alone now. What do you plan to do with us?”

Hermione looked surprised by his question. “I, uh,” she blushed, very tempted to bury her head against one of their chests. “I hadn’t planned that far ahead.”

Gideon looked at her, curious. “You did read everything that is involved in the True Match spell?”

Her blush faded, as Hermione nearly laughed out loud at the absurdity of the question, but then remembered that neither wizard knew her habits. She smiled. “Yes, and while it suggests creating a permanent bond between the caster and the match as soon as possible, it’s not a requirement.” She paused, biting her lower lip, and looking back and forth between both men. “Coming from me, this is crazy, but I don’t want to wait. I mean, I don’t want a binding right this second, and Molly would kill me if I didn’t give her enough time to plan something, bu—“

Fabian pressed a finger to her lips, cutting off her rambling. A smile lit up his face. “We will deal with bonding and telling our family and your friends tomorrow. But for tonight,” his smile turned predatory, “we want you all to ourselves.”

She moaned at his words. “Yes.”

~**~~**~~**~

Hermione woke with a start; feeling like her skin was on fire. She was so hot. She struggled to untangle herself from the confining bedding, but quickly realised two heavy arms were weighing her down. She moved her right hand, trying to release it from their hold and ended up elbowing the wizard lying next to her.

Hermione bit her lip as pain raced up and down her arm from where her elbow connected with his jaw.

He grunted, and as he shifted in his sleep, his arm slid from where it had been resting over her stomach, pulling the blanket and sheet tighter behind him.

Hermione whispered, “Sorry!” as she looked to the wizard on her right, but she was unable to see who it was she had hit in the pre-dawn darkness.

Once she understood that one of the arms holding her down was no longer there, she tried once again to free her arm.

“Oh, good grief,” she muttered, as she realised that the arm lying over her waist and hips was also holding on to her hand. She twisted her hand in his grasp, and moments later her arm came free, nearly hitting the wizard on her right a second time.

After her arm was free from bodies and bedding, she was able to pull part of the sheet and blanket from where they had become tucked underneath either wizard and she shoved them down towards the bottom of the bed.

Fabian’s voice rumbled from her right, answering her question of which wizard she hit in the jaw. “What are you doing, little one?”

“Oh Merlin, I’m so sorry for hitting you, but I’m burning up,” she breathed, savouring the cooler air that washed over her body. “You’re both like bloody furnaces!”

He chuckled. “I think I’ll survive, since you didn’t hit me that hard.” He nudged Gideon’s hand away from her hip and turned her on her right side to face him, running his fingers through her hair. “I don’t know about us being furnaces, but you are hot.”

Hermione could hear the smirk playing across his lips. She rolled her eyes, chuckling. “I now know where George gets it from, you are such a flatterer.” Now that her eyes had finally adjusted to the darkness of the room, she looked at the wizard in front of her. The brunette witch smiled, brushing her fingers over his jaw and inquiring, “How is your jaw, really? Because I elbowed you pretty hard, even caught my elbow just right.”

Fabian grasped her left wrist in his hand, pressing kisses to her fingertips. “It’s fine, honestly, but if you feel that you need to make it up to me, you’re more than welcome to. Is your elbow okay?”

“I’ll survive.” Hermione smirked and pushed against Fabian’s right shoulder back, as he rolled onto his back, she straddled his waist. Her hands slid along his torso, brushing against the red hairs smattered across the broad expanse of his chest, and over his shoulders to rest on either side of his head. Lowering her bare chest to press against his, she whispered huskily, “I know just how to make it up to you.”

Fabian hummed in pleasure as she kissed along his injured jaw and down his neck. “Oh, I like the way you think, love,” he groaned, as her tongue lapped against a nipple, his hips thrusting against her own.

Hermione moaned, grinding against Fabian’s growing erection.

A voice interrupted them, as the light of a wand tip lit up the room. “What are you doing starting without me?”

Fabian tangled his hands in Hermione’s hair, preventing her from pulling away, and growled, “Don’t you dare.”

Hermione whimpered.

“To answer your question, brother, she’s making up for hitting me in the jaw earlier.” Fabian looked to his left to find that his brother was now lying on his side after having slept most of the night on his stomach, facing them, but he had moved closer to be within arm’s reach of the couple.

Gideon ran his hand over Hermione’s back, before sliding it over her hip, its destination immediately obvious. “That’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen, freckles.”

Hermione froze causing Fabian to chuckle. Partially freeing herself from Fabian’s loose hold, she slapped his brother’s hand away. “Don’t think you’re getting anywhere with me, mister, if you’re going to call me that ridiculous name.”

“What about Wildfire?” Fabian murmured, his lips brushing against her neck. His left hand tangled in her hair again, as his right slid down to grasp her hip, trying to stop her from leaving the comfort of his embrace.

“Wildfire isn’t bad, but I like what you call me, Fabian.”

Gideon pondered the possibilities. “Well, what shall I call you?”

“Think on it and while you are, I’m going to go shower, since you interrupted us.” She smirked and turned to Fabian. “Would you like to join me?”

At his nod, Hermione was finally able to wiggle out of Fabian’s grasp and she clasped his hand to bring him with her.

“Come back here, you temptress.” Gideon reached around his brother for her, but she quickly manoeuvred out of the way, laughing delightedly. 

Once Fabian was standing, Hermione darted for the bathroom door and completely out of Gideon’s reach. Ignoring the fact that she was completely starkers, it wasn’t like the two wizards staring at her had not seen all of her the night before, she stopped at the doorway. Her eyes sparkled in the dim wand light as she turned to face both wizards. “Oh, now, I like that.”

Spinning back around, she flipped the lights on in the bathroom and walked over to the walk-in shower. She leaned forward and turned on the taps.

As Hermione stepped back from turning on the taps in her shower, Fabian was standing right behind her. She leaned back into the warmth of his skin, his erection pressing against the small of her back. “My brother is right,” he murmured, nipping at the shell of her ear and sliding his hands around her waist.

“About what?” Hermione moaned, tilting her head to the side and savouring the feel of his lips sliding against the skin of her neck and his hands moving over her body.

“You are a bloody temptress,” he growled, smacking her bum.

Hermione yelped, jumping away from him and into the shower. Letting the warm water run over body, she remarked offhandedly, “Well, I guess that makes up for me elbowing you in the jaw earlier.”

“Oh no you don’t,” Fabian said, and Hermione quickly found herself sandwiched between his hot, hard body and the cool, unforgiving tiles of her shower. Fabian’s hands gripped her hips, lifting her feet from the floor. “You are mine right now.”

She wrapped her legs around his waist, pulling him even closer, his cock pressed against her core. They both moaned, and she panted, “What about Gideon?”

Fabian smirked wickedly. “What about him? He’s currently happy watching from the doorway like a voyeur. Has been since we stepped in here.”

Hermione looked over Fabian’s right shoulder, noticing for the first time that Gideon was indeed leaning against the doorframe watching the two of them. His hand wrapped around his erection, slowly pumping up and down. Hermione whimpered, feeling a wave of lust sweep through her body.

While she was distracted by her other lover, Fabian tilted his hips back enough to slip his hand between them and grasp his own cock, guiding it to her entrance. As he slid slowly into her, Hermione’s eyes fell closed, a blissful smile spreading across her face.

Fabian groaned and his head dropped to rest on her shoulder. He paused for a moment to enjoy the feeling of her walls stretching to accommodate his size.

The moment he saw Hermione’s eyes were closed, Gideon made his move, crossing the bathroom in just two strides. Stepping into the shower, he closed the door behind him, thankful that her shower was big enough for the three of them and then some. Gideon’s hand slipped behind her head, turning her lips towards his, before she could open her eyes, he kissed her. He put all his feelings into that one kiss. The lust he felt at seeing her with his own brother, the love he already felt for the petite witch in their arms, and the desperation to be closer to her. Gideon’s kiss drew her into the inferno that was consuming him.

He felt his brother pull back and thrust forward slowly, teasing their little minx. Gideon could feel that each thrust of his brother’s hips was just that much more powerful than the last, driving their witch crazy with need. Hermione mewled, and her hand wrapped around Gideon’s forearm, her nails digging into the skin. Tearing his mouth from hers, Gideon groaned, “What are you doing to me? To us, Temptress?”

Her reply was cut short as Fabian bit the juncture of her neck and shoulder, all the while continuing to thrust into her.

Gideon smirked, sliding his unoccupied hand between Fabian and Hermione’s bodies. Once the tips of his fingers reached their destination, he pinched her clit. “Answer my question,” he rumbled.

She stumbled over her words, a blush spreading across her features. “I-uh…I don-don’t know.” She paused trying to collect herself, but neither wizard cared to slow their torment of their witch. “The same as what you are doing to me,” she ground out before groaning at the feeling of Fabian’s mouth now giving attention to her right breast.

Gideon continued to play with her clit with his left hand, but his right slid from her hair to grasp her left hand in his right and guide it over the planes of his body. He leaned forward to whisper in her ear, loud enough for all to hear over the running of the water in the shower. “Teasing you to the point of distraction, showing you exactly what you do to us, and making you feel alive.” As he said the last part, he wrapped her small hand around his cock, showing her without words what he liked. “Am I right, Temptress? Because that’s what you do to us.”

“Yes,” Hermione nearly hissed, her hips now meeting Fabian’s thrust for thrust.

“You like having our hands on your body, our lips on your skin, our cocks inside your pretty little pussy,” his grin widened at the tiny nods she probably didn’t realise she was giving him. “What about your hand wrapped around my cock? Do you like that?”

Hermione nodded more emphatically this time. “Oh Merlin yes.”

“What about one of our cocks in your mouth?” Gideon twisted her clit just a little bit harder.

Hermione’s eyes flew open as her mouth dropped and a short scream escaped her lips, her orgasm taking her by surprise.

Fabian grunted, stopping as her walls clenched around him. When he felt the spasms start to subside, he moved, triggering a second smaller orgasm for Hermione.

“Fuck.” Fabian’s fingers clenched around her hips as his body stilled against hers, his own orgasm flowing through him, trapping Gideon’s hand between them.

Once Fabian regained his senses, he pulled out and relaxed against the corner of the shower, just next to Hermione. Gideon stepped in front of Hermione, wrapping her legs around his waist.

“You know, I said earlier watching you kiss my brother’s chest was the hottest thing. I was wrong.” Gideon’s eyes shined brightly. “Watching him fuck you is the hottest thing I’ve ever seen.”

He ran his hand down the side of her face causing her to look at him. “I’ll be glad to teach you to suck me off later, my Temptress, but I don’t have the patience for that. Ready for round two?”

“Good, neither do I,” Hermione said in a low voice, grasping his cock and positioning at her entrance. “And yes, I am.” She looked straight into his eyes. “Now, fuck me.”

“Gladly.”

~**~~**~~**~

As the inky black night slowly gave way to the purples and golds of the first dawn of Samhain, Hermione relaxed into the arms of her lovers. Despite how happy and complete Fabian and Gideon made her feel, she felt as though Draco still needed a ‘present’ for his meddling in her life. Nothing permanent of course, because she rather liked Daph and Padma, but Draco needed a little reminder that Hermione did not take well to being spied upon. While lying in bed, sandwiched between her lovers Hermione decided the perfect gift to send, planning to have it delivered later that morning.

As the brunette witch slowly fell back asleep, she realised that she never did get to try the cider sangria she had brought to the Burrow the night before. She smiled. _I’ll just have to make it again_.

~**~~**~~**~

Draco was working in his study when a tapping at the window pulled his attention from the parchments before him. He looked up to see Hermione’s short-eared owl, Bahram*, waiting with a small scroll clutched in his talons. Quickly making his way over to the window, he let the owl in.

“How is my favourite smiter of resistance doing today?” Draco gently pried the scroll from Bahram’s grasp. The owl nudged Draco’s hand with his beak. “Don’t worry, I’ve got your favourite treats right here.”

Draco absentmindedly handed Bahram an owl treat while opening the letter in his hands. He had honestly expected to receive a howler from the brunette witch, but what he had received was a simple thank you note. He smirked realising that things must have gone really well for the Muggleborn witch.

Feeling the flutter of wings against his cheek, Draco looked up and watched Bahram wing his way from the manor. A clock within the manor chimed the time; noon. Still pondering the unusual note in his hand, he turned around, waved the window closed behind him, and made his way to the family room to meet his wives for lunch.

“It would seem that Hermione’s night wen—” Draco was cut off by the sounds of his wives’ gasps. As he looked up in surprise at them, they doubled over in laughter. “What in the…” He looked back and forth in confusion until they both pointed to the mirror next to him.

Draco turned and his eyes widened at the sight. “That devious little witch! She’ll regret doing this to me!”

Daphne and Padma continued to laugh over their husband’s response to Hermione’s surprise. The brilliant witch had given Draco red hair and freckles.

“Whatever you say, dear.”

**Author's Note:**

> The morse code used in the scene with Kingsley and Marlene, spells out 'veil' (...- . .. .-..), telling him where his presence is needed.
> 
> I know that mulled wine can be made many different ways with many different ingredients. The recipe I used for this particular tale can be found on the Food Network site.  
> http://www.foodnetwork.com/recipes/ina-garten/mulled-wine-recipe.html  
> The recipe for the cider sangria, which is similar to mulled wine, but is cold like sangria, can be found on the Spoon University site.  
> http://nyu.spoonuniversity.com/recipe/cider-sangria/
> 
> In the scene at the Burrow, I looked at many websites for aspects of Samhain that I could use.
> 
> Also, for those that do not know, in Irish (no, it’s not Gaelic), Samhain is the word for the month of November, which is why in the scene second from the end, I use the line, ‘the first dawn of Samhain,’ meaning 01 November.
> 
> *Bahram is Persian for ‘smiter of resistance’ or ‘victorious.’ I found it while looking for names that mean ‘messenger,’ I saw it and felt it was fitting for Hermione’s owl.
> 
> I know, a lot of author’s notes and I apologise. I hope you enjoyed my tale into the little known world of Hermione with Fabian and Gideon. The guys were so much fun to work with and I hope to jump back in again at some point.


End file.
